Secrets
by BRKyle
Summary: Belinda Kyle, Healer Padawan, begins to find a way to fit in to the Jedi Temple in the Galaxy Far, Far Away. Follows "Shipwreck"; rated T for mild language and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

******DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing of the Star Wars Universe, concept, or characters, and pay homage to the Great Flanneled one for his vast creative powers. I own the characters I have created, as far as they do not infringe upon his rights. No copyright infringement is intended and I do not profit from this work. I'll put them back when I'm done, George, honest. 

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Are you sure, little one?"_

The dreams had been irregular, but a bit disturbing. They were seldom really visual, but only various voices. Always, the voices, familiar and unfamiliar, said the same thing – however, even if it spoke the same words, it was never the same question twice. It would be related to the dream I was having, perhaps – was I sure that I wanted to be a Healer, or was I sure I wanted to be around a man who may even now become a Sith Lord? Sometimes I couldn't even tell _what_ the question meant. If I knew, I would answer the question, having figured out awhile back that I wouldn't be able to keep sleeping unless I did. After that, I'd be quickly returned to the regularly scheduled dream… it was odd. This time, I awoke in a cold sweat, with a dark foreboding in my heart. I had the feeling that I'd be tested in my resolve in some way. I just hoped I would pass.

It was a grey, rainy day on Coruscant. I'd always thought the weather was controlled too well for that kind of thing, but it was cold and dreary, and the days grew shorter toward midwinter. No snow, just rain and a lot of sleet. As usual around this time of year, I was a bit depressed. It was eight months after I'd begun my apprenticeship, and I was shortly due on-shift in the intake section of the Infirmary. I had graduated from carrying bedpans and mopping up messes to taking vital signs, basic triage exams, and helping with pain relief during Healing treatments. It came of having had such awful pain during the attack on me and my recovery, according to Master Bodreau. I evidently had acquired a knack for knowing how to relieve pain in others. It was wonderful beyond belief, and I was glad to be able to do it. However, it was through the bond that had _supposedly_ been broken that I felt the pain that would test the ability more than anyone else could.

Qui-Gon was deep in trance, in medical stasis as his ship approached, and I was shocked when felt the ghost of the pain even before the ship approached orbit. I centered myself and took the message that he was coming, answering the comm the instant it rang and summoning Master Bodreau. He looked at me in concern as he came to check the readouts.

"Are you all right, Belinda? You may leave if you wish; this may be – difficult for you." He patted my shoulder as I made notes on the datapadd.

"I'd hardly be much of a friend if I ran off when things got tough," I said. "I'll be fine, Master. He doesn't seem to be that badly wounded, by the account, but it's potentially quite painful if his ribs are involved."

"Indeed," he replied. "We will see when he arrives. Be mindful of your feelings and thoughts."

I nodded. "I will do my best, Master." I was quite sure that Master Bodreau was aware of my feelings for Qui-Gon, but this was the first time he'd even intimated them. At the beginning of my apprenticeship, he told me that he was well aware that my history, training and attitudes were substantially different than most of the Healer Padawans that were there, even those taken into the Order later in life, and that he would be glad to guide me in the study of the Jedi Code and the Healers' rules as well. But, he added, I had wisdom of my own, and I'd have to use my judgment. He also said that my moral center was strong and sure. I told him that was my parents' doing, and he chuckled.

"Your family may have started you off correctly," he said, "but you have a strong conscience and have demonstrated strength of character even when right action is difficult."

"That's as much stubbornness as anything else, I'd say," I said, "but I have a more sure guide now. It was harder to hear, before. Now, with what I've been taught – I am truly grateful."

He had smiled in reply.

I went to the transparisteel windows and looked up toward the sky through the endless layers of swoop bike and aircar traffic, _willing_ the shuttle to get there faster so I could see him, help him, see how he was, if he'd be all right soon. When I realized that my hands clenched the rail so hard that they cramped, I knew that I was _not _going to help at all in that condition. I began to consciously calm myself, to go through every one of the cleansing and meditation exercises I knew so I would not harm him by my own anxiety. He was unconscious, hiding deep within his mind in a safe place. He knew I was there; I tried not to intrude, but I was worried. He'd never hidden so before, and I knew that this was an extreme strategy even from my limited training.

It was an hour before he came in, looking pretty ragged. He'd cracked a few ribs and was only indifferently cleaned up at best, his face looking rough, smeared with blood and who knew what, his clothing in tatters and his hair matted and tangled. Master Bodreau came to him right after I got there. I had already begun to help reduce his pain and let him rest. Even in trance, the lines of pain made his face look thinner. The lines didn't smooth out as I reached to make the rest of the connections, as they would have under most normal circumstances. Rather, I was horrified to find that his muscles were twitching in tiny seizures, from the mere warmth of my hand on his skin, from the touch of the disinfectant solution on his wounds. I could hardly catch my breath just from the echoes of the pain he had.

"Stop, please, Master," I gasped, looking up into his eyes. "He is in so much pain. Give me a few moments to find out what I'm doing wrong."

Master Bodreau nodded, and Qui-Gon acknowledged my presence and helped me as much as he could. I cast about and finally got a Force "fingernail" under the mechanism that made even the motion of air across his face screamingly painful, and began to counter it as well as I could. I had to make it up as I went along – luckily, improvisation was one of my stronger skills. At first, I had to feel some of the pain to understand the process and release it, taking it directly. It was no joke; it took all my concentration, strength, and clarity to keep from collapsing myself, and I was neither wounded nor exhausted. For a few moments, it felt like my whole body was on fire, crushed, then I was able to reach out and within, and finally found the trick of releasing the agony directly while dissipating the wild firing of his sensory and motor neurons, and we both breathed deeply for a few moments as the pain-storm subsided.

_(You have learned much,) _came the thought, as I soothed the pain from his other injuries, which were much more severe than we had been lead to believe. _(You have done well.) _

_Call it enlightened self-interest,_ I replied gently.

As we got him cleaned up, I saw that the pattern of the burns suggested some kind of electrical device, even one _designed_ to inflict pain on a humanoid. We found that a drug or poison had also been administered to lower his nerves' firing threshold. For anyone but a Jedi, it would have been fatal. Qui-Gon had taken the only solution he could; he shut his metabolism down as much as possible and just hid from the horrible agony. I could sense Master Bodreau's distress easily, and it echoed my own. So far I had been too busy to waste energy on temper, and now I still had much to do. I laid my hand on Qui-Gon's cheek gently to aid in establishing better contact as we began the work in earnest.

_I'm glad. It's a joy to ease suffering. Now relax, love, let's calm your nerves down. We have to clear a toxin now, let us help. Give yourself into our hands and use your energy to heal. _

_(I shall,) _came the reply, and he formally released control to us. As the pain subsided, he began to go deeper into trance, and Master Bodreau was able to establish the bond and diagnose the problems to begin treatment. I stayed with him, maintaining the pain control and providing an anchor. I continued to concentrate on staying clear, staying centered, giving the pain to the Force and allowing healing to flow through me as Master Bodreau directed the beginning of the treatment, clearing the toxin from his system and preparing him for a brief time in Bacta to help regenerate nerve damage that otherwise might prove troublesome and perhaps progressive. It was at the edge of my ability, a stretch, more power than anything I'd dared before. The alternative was unacceptable, though, so I did it. Master Bodreau left for a few moments to arrange the bacta tank and treatments, and I felt Qui-Gon slip from the deep hiding place he'd originally found to keep himself from madness into the more peaceful state of a normal healing trance. I caressed his face gently now that it was not a storm of agony to do so, and I could see the trace of a smile as he finally felt the comfort I had so wanted to give to him. As I came back to myself, I was not surprised to feel tears running down my face. It wasn't the first time.

_(Do not weep, little one,) _came the thought, _(I chose this path. It is the job I do.)_

_I know that, Qui-Gon. I admire you for it, but I don't have to like this. I don't ever have to approve of torture and cruelty, even less when it's someone I love._

Oops. Couldn't take that one back. _He had to have figured it out by now, maybe even Master Yoda or Master Dooku had told him_. But he surprised me. Instead of admonishing me to be mindful of my feelings and thoughts, instead of reminding me he was a Jedi and that it would be very difficult to maintain a relationship between us, there was a sudden thread of joy, glad sweetness that entered my mind, my heart, seeming to come both directly from him and from my connection to the Force as well. I gasped to feel it, like a golden ray of summer sunshine filling our hearts, warming us from inside. Then he went back to his quiet safe place and lapsed finally into a true healing trance, leaving me dizzy and shaking for half a moment with the rush of emotion that his gentle warmth had released.

"Is Master Jinn in trance now?" Master Bodreau asked when he returned a few moments later. I swallowed and gathered myself, using a few more centering exercises and breathing deeply so I could speak.

"Yes, my Master," I said.

"You must be more mindful of your thoughts and feelings," he replied, kindly. I wiped my eyes and he put a hand on my shoulder.

"I am quite aware of my feelings, Master," I replied. "I am close to Master Jinn, and I consider him a friend. I don't take very kindly to my friends being tortured." I turned to face him directly. "I would not be who I am if I didn't have feelings, Master. The best I can do is not let them get in the way of my work. Did I do that?"

"You did well after you remembered that. Master Jinn's pain was very severe, and you not only maintained without flinching but found the problem and began to solve it by the time I began to treat his injuries."

"Thank you. I'm glad I could do that; it's really such a joy. I – need to take a walk, Master, to get a breath of air. May I do so?"

"It is well past time for you to leave. Do not forget your meditation this evening."

"I will not, Master. Good night."

I was tired, but I'd been telling the truth. I needed to get the anger out of my system, needed it badly. If I didn't, it would be a migraine when I awoke, and there would be no joy in Mudville. So I went and got Slan (who was quite happy in my quarters, playing around with the comm system and learning things), and went down to the machines that they called "stationary runners" here. I had a lot of things to release, and a lot to think about.

_/Lyn's going nowhere fast? / _Slan asked, giggling. The treadmills amused him.

"I need to stay in shape somehow, Slan," I replied. "And this keeps me from getting headaches when I get angry."

He patted my head and made a sympathetic sound. _/No head hurt. /_

"I'm with you, buddy, so come on. Hey," I said, as we got started, remembering the conversation I'd had with Master Dooku at lunch that afternoon, "would you like to be able to talk to anyone the way you speak to me and the Jedi?"

_/Why talk to anyone else? /_

"For whatever reason you want. Master Dooku said that he'd looked into it and other Peroota Cats like you have been able to use a voder to speak. Would you like to do that?"

He shrugged. It wasn't much of a problem here, admittedly. _/Don't need to. /_

"I suppose not. But will you think about it? You might like to be able to talk."

"'Kay!" he chirped.

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before," I said. "I had no idea."

He patted my cheek again. He was a good guy; he'd forgive me.

"You're a good friend, Slan. Do you want to run with me or watch some holo? I was thinking of the news," I said, as we got ready to run.

_/No news, yucky news. Want __**Tales of the Jedi**__! /_

"_Tales of the Jedi_? Oh, dear. Well, I suppose I could use a laugh. All right."

_Tales of the Jedi _had become something of a guilty pleasure since I'd heard about it on the morning of my Apprenticeship ceremony eight months before. It was a serial in the old tradition, rather like a Western crossed with a space opera, where Brave Jedi Knights fought Evil Criminals and Corruption on the Wild Galactic Frontier, with much swashbuckling and derring-do. The current storyline involved Desperate Spice Pirates and Jedi Master Cor Valiant and his Brave Padawan Eesee Fait. She was, of course, in love with her Master, but since Jedi Cannot Know Love, it was hopeless. I figured that if it had been Star Trek, she would have been wearing a red shirt… I suspected Master Yoda to have had some kind of hand in the series' production, but not enough of one to make much difference in the production values – Qui-Gon had better lightsabre technique when he was twelve, I was sure. And the dialog – _gods,_ it was as bad as Lucas'.

It was hilarious. Of course, Slan took it rather too seriously, but we talked about it and I explained about popular fiction and how silly it could be. He asked as many questions as a three-year-old child, and more than once made me closely examine many of my own opinions and assumptions. Great. Having one's moral compass adjusted by a house pet was a unique experience, but one used what one had to hand, I guessed. And truly, Slan was more than a pet. I wondered if eventually he'd want to live on his own, but I figured I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

When I first saw it, I had had an epiphany about _Tales of the Jedi – _George Lucas had tuned in his television to the correct frequency one day in 1973 or so and had put his operatic tragedy into this absurd space-opera setting. There was even a really cheesy Jedi Neck Pinch that looked just like Mr. Spock's. That episode had me rolling off the sofa, but Slan didn't get it. I'd had to explain the _whole thing,_ which had me in fits of giggles for a long time. But now, as I watched, I saw the grains of truth in the myth created for the unsuspecting public of Coruscant. I saw the noble and willing Jedi sacrifice herself for the greater good, to save her Master and defeat the Dark Side, and I found my eyes wet once more. Much truth is disguised in myth, and these storytellers knew more than they suspected.

A month before, a Jedi Knight had come home to die, and we had aided her in a kind, comfortable, and dignified passing after she'd given her life to a planet and culture that had never known of her existence. I had wept then, too, though I had only known her for a short time. She reminded of the Rangers who protected simple ignorant people from evils they could not imagine. It was much the same. Most of the people the Jedi served didn't understand them, nor the cost of the peace that they were sworn to preserve. Yet all of them that I had met did their jobs gladly, and considered their ability a gift and a blessing. I did as well.

_/Lyn sad? /_ Slan asked. He patted my cheek, damp with tears as well as sweat from the five kilometers or so that I'd run. Not up to my usual, but I was tired, and someone had turned on the waterworks.

"No, I'm all right, Slan. Time to hit the showers or we'll miss dinner." He'd run a bit with me – he could cover quite a lot of ground at speed himself. He seemed to enjoy running.

We went to the showers, and I stretched under the warm water as Slan splashed in the small stall across from me. It felt good, even though I was sore and tired, to have forestalled a migraine. Even if I was still deeply saddened by the truly unspeakable treatment Qui-Gon had received, I could let the anger go and be thankful that I could help him, and that he would recover. I knew he was safe in the Bacta and healing, and finally comfortable and in no pain.

I dressed and put myself together as Slan adjusted himself to whatever standard of appearance he favored. He was posing in the mirror when I came out. He had grown quite a bit, and his coloring had changed to cream colored on his stomach, and golden on the top with some striations, something like a tiger but muted. He was a very handsome creature indeed.

"Gorgeous," I said, and he giggled. "Come on, Handsome, I'm half starved."

We found the closest Commissary and got some roasted dlif, a protein-rich mushroom of sorts from an outlying planet. That and the spicy grain and leafy vegetable soup (fielle) were quite a tasty and comforting meal – I was beginning to get used to the food, and that was a blessing. Now I wasn't ready to kill for red beans and rice… The colors were another matter. I wasn't accustomed to purple soup. Slan tucked into his as though he were going to the chair. I looked over my notes as the soup cooled, and was surprised to hear a familiar voice, sounding concerned.

"Ah, here you are, Belinda. I was looking for you."

I stood, a bit flustered. "Master Dooku, please, join me, have a seat. Can I get you anything?"

He was carrying a tray, and sat at my invitation. "I am well taken care of, thank you. I hear my wayward Padawan came in through the Healers' Wing this afternoon. Is he going to be all right?"

"I'm glad you heard about Qui-Gon. You should likely ask Master Bodreau about specifics on his condition. He's in Bacta now, but he's comfortable, I can assure you of that."

He nodded, looking quite relieved. "I was aware of his pain, of course. Some bonds are never truly broken. Are _you_ all right, Belinda?" he asked, gently.

"A little tired, perhaps, but fine. The learning curve is steep on the pain reduction techniques, but I seem to have developed a knack for improvising on the fly. It's good to be able to help."

He nodded. "Indeed. Qui-Gon was most fortunate as well."

"Patient, more like, Master," I replied, smiling. He chuckled, and we ate quietly for a bit.

Over the past months Master Dooku had, surprisingly, become a friend. Master Bodreau had accepted his offer to help tutor me on matters of protocol and the history of the Jedi Order after a rather sticky incident, and we often had tea or lunch together to discuss assignments and questions as his schedule permitted. I had found Yan Dooku to be a fine, reasonably patient teacher, with a strong sense of right and definite opinions that often differed with those of the Jedi Council. He was sometimes a bit moody and had distinct curmudgeon tendencies, but he did have a sense of humor, luckily for me. We shared a common disgust with corrupt politics and a dislike of politicians in general, though I often found myself struggling to understand some of his insights and lessons.

He felt that the Jedi were too closely connected with the Senate and the status quo, and the more I learned from my classes, from him, and from the studies I pursued independently, the more I agreed. I could see that he bore a deep affection for Qui-Gon, and of course that was something else we shared in common. His recent assignments had kept him fairly close to the Temple – not surprising, considering what I had told Master Yoda. He was a bit twitchy about being there so much, but his investigations of the possible rising of a Sith Lord had proceeded rather well because of the help I'd been able to give him, and I always loved to hear the stories he had to tell about the lovely things he had and the missions he'd undertaken. He taught me well with the stories, too.

"What was it that could give him so much pain?" Master Dooku asked.

I sighed. "It seemed to be a device made to torture, though I don't know the reason. Of course, it didn't work too well, so they used a drug to reduce the nerves' firing threshold. Then he just went into trance until they gave up, as far as we could tell."

He smiled grimly. "He has much endurance, but sometimes doesn't know when to stop."

I nodded. "And he told _me_ not to be upset, because he had chosen to do the job he does. I know that, Master, but it's never easy to feel a friend suffer."

He quirked his lip. "That is certainly true," he said. "But you did what you could. I am sure that he knows."

"Of course. He'll be in Bacta for a day or two at least, I think. I'm sure he'll be glad if you visit, even so," I said. He smiled, a bit more easily.

"I hope so," he said. "I hope he'll rest."

"I'm with you on that one, Master Dooku. He doesn't have much choice for a while, at least. We'll see when he's up and about. I understand he has a bit of a reputation for resisting treatment."

He chuckled. "Again you show a gift for understatement, Belinda. He's a reputation for driving the Healers to distraction. He started when he was only a teenager, and hasn't improved since."

"I'll bear that in mind, sir," I said. _Well, he's already done that to me; maybe I'll have a chance to get him to relax. _

"See that you do," he replied, smiling. "Thank you for letting me know what was happening," he continued, rising. "I will indeed speak with Master Bodreau. Good evening."

"Good evening to you, Master. I'll see you soon, I think."

He smiled, and bowed a bit as I rose as well. "Yes, that's most likely. Get some rest, Padawan, you've done well today. May the Force be with you."

I bowed to him, and wondered at his remark. "And with you, as well, Master – and thank you," I said. I didn't know my fatigue was so obvious, I had best beat it back to my quarters and do the rest of my work. And praise from Master Dooku was rare indeed. I was impressed that he thought I'd done well, and gratified.

So I went back and studied for a while. When I found myself reading the same sentence for the tenth time, I knew that both Masters were right, and I _was_ very tired. I very much needed to meditate that evening, so rather than fall asleep in my meditation alcove as I'd done more than once, I decided it was now or never.

I settled in to a comfortable position, and Slan curled up at my knees. The meditation had always fascinated him, ever since he'd seen Qui-Gon meditate on the island. He always wanted to be close to me when I meditated; I think he enjoyed the relative quiet.

Today I had a lot to consider. I had learned a way to quiet the human nervous system in a seizure, and I used the techniques taught me to be sure to cement that technique in my memory. It was useful, and I didn't want to have to reinvent the wheel. I had also managed not to allow my emotions to get in the way of my work, and even though I had been deeply saddened and angered by Qui-Gon's condition on his arrival, had also managed to maintain my concentration and help him, which was what mattered. _Maybe that was the secret of true maturity – to accept one's feelings and move beyond them for the greater good. _ That was a heavy thing to consider, and I supposed that I hadn't the energy to go all through the line of reasoning now. I reluctantly left it for another time.

Then there was the emotion that I had felt _from him _– that was startling, to say the least. I'd become accustomed to the idea that though I loved him, Qui-Gon did not – _could _not – return my feelings in that way. I'd studied the Code and rules and never found any prohibition against love and marriage, but the current leadership of the Order actively discouraged any form of attachments among any Jedi. It puzzled me. I wasn't very sophisticated when it came to philosophy, but even when I considered it under the uncompromising light of truth that the Force could give, love was _not_ a bad thing. I could see the peril of obsession, infatuation, possessiveness, jealousy – those truly _were _paths to the Dark Side, I'd seen it more than once even in my limited experience, I could definitely understand – but real love was something that seemed to be part of the Living Force, coming from something much larger than one human soul. My infatuation with Qui-Gon had burned off like fog in the morning, but it seemed very much like my love for him was a fact by then, like it was just part of me – one of the best parts. I still considered it so.

Though I found him very beautiful, I didn't just love him for that, either. I loved his subtle humor, his kind nature, his deep compassion, his keen mind, his need to aid those in search of justice. I loved watching him at 'sabre practice, where he flowed like water, one with the Force that I could _almost see _swirling around him. He was, according to many who knew, the finest swordsman that the Order had seen in centuries. I'd seen a few competent swordsmen in my life before, in the SCA and even in a few fencing and kendo classes, but he, of course, was orders of magnitude beyond them. It wasn't the studied perfection of form and kata that he displayed, but it was oneness with the weapon, with the situation, changing with the moment. It was stark, deadly beauty to see. I loved seeing him interact with the children, where he was a thorough, loving teacher.

As I'd told Master Yoda, I'd no illusions about being the first woman to fall in love with the Jedi who saved her, nor even about being the first woman to fall in love with Qui-Gon. If my feelings were returned, of course, I had other things to think about. _I had to admit, unrequited love was a bit less complicated. Now it was time to really get over yourself, Kyle, and make the hard choices -- or listen to the Force and let the choices be made.  
_

I had done a fair bit of studying on it in the past few months; I could find no prohibition of love or marriage in the original Jedi Code. When I asked Master Dooku about it, he said that the current interpretation of the code did not date to the original Order, where it was common, and even encouraged, for members to marry and have families. One of the greatest Jedi, Nomi Sunrider, was a woman who _became_ a knight _after_ she'd had children, when her husband had been killed. When we discussed it, I found that he felt as I did, that the denial of family ties and love made the Jedi _more_ vulnerable to the Dark Side, most especially humans. His argument covered a lot more ground than my mere gut instincts did, but it essentially came down to the same as mine – that love can make duty joy, but lack of it can make duty bitter and empty. That, he felt, was the reason that many Jedi fell from the path. I hoped secretly that this was a revelation that would protect _him_ from that fate. I had grown to care quite a bit for him in the time I'd known him. As cranky and sharply critical as he could be, he could also be kind and witty and wise. I knew in my bones that he was a key to this complex puzzle in which I was mired; it was vitally important that he stay with the light.

I didn't know much about the psychology of other species yet, but I could see just from my own knowledge, feelings, and leaning that pure altruism was not guaranteed to produce the desired result in humans – an Order without conflict, dedicated to the good of the Republic. Why was there no room for personal happiness in the Jedi Order? Not everyone was cut out to be a celibate monk, even if you were considered a priest. Jedi were _not_ required to be celibate. They had quite a reputation as lovers, as a matter of fact, though I imagined that tale had grown in the telling. I found the whole thing to be quite puzzling. _Why would Jedi be allowed idle dalliance and not committed relationships?_ It seemed the opposite of the values they seemed to preach, truth and fidelity and honesty, to do the "wham bam thank-you-ma'am" number. _One giant step -- backward._

"Perhaps your path is not as you expect," Master Dooku had said, after we had discussed that particular chapter of history, the Code, and its attendant wrinkles. "Certainly there must be change, both in the Order and in the Republic, for them to survive. We all have parts to play in this, and we must be guided as we see the way. But be assured, Belinda. You are exactly where you are meant to be, doing exactly what you are meant to do in this moment. Be at peace. Be glad."

I had looked up into the infinite dark eyes of Qui-Gon's Master, and I had seen kindness there, wisdom and knowledge. It was not the grim hooded look of evil; it was the clear honest gaze of a man who wanted to help, to save something precious that was very close to being irreparably broken. It seemed the look of a man who knows desperate measures may be needed, and that it may well be too late.

I had put my hand on top of his, the first time I'd presumed to touch him. He gently took it; his hand was warm and strong. "Thank you. I have to admit, I often have doubts."

"No room for those now," he'd replied, solemn but with a smile in his eyes. I had gotten the idea then that he knew what I had seen and what I could not tell him, and that he had chosen the right path. I could only pray I was right.

The whole thing was incomprehensible to me; I could barely get my mind around my small piece of it. I knew that the current system had been in place for thousands of years, which staggered me. Even with the _average _ human lifespan increased to well over 130 years, the sheer continuity of things was incredible. But I could also see from my studies that both the Jedi and Healers' Orders had become increasingly intertwined with the Senate and Republic for the last several thousand years, and that this had prevented any objectivity on either body's part for at least that long. For a government, it was damn convenient to have hot and cold running miracle workers on demand, even a government as incredibly laissez-faire as the Republic necessarily was. There were thousands and thousands of star systems, trillions of beings. It was incredible, unimaginable in scope. Somewhere along the line, the individual, even the individual world, had become unimportant to the players of power. On that scale, it wasn't difficult to understand. Oddly enough, it had happened around the time that the Jedi Council had decided that it was not good for Jedi to be people – but icons, who could neither love nor hate.

_Was that it? Had the problem come with the depersonalization of the Republic and devolved onto the Jedi Order? _ Incomprehensible sums of money changing hands between faceless corporations, entire cultures bought and sold, enslaved and destroyed as "progress" marched on. From my (probably oversimplified) studies and reasoning, it had somehow ceased to matter _just around the time when the Universal Force became more important to the Order._

I was jolted out of my contemplations. _**I**_**_t couldn't be that simple, could it?_** That the balance was gone, and something had to be done to redress the error… could this lead to the destruction of planets, the death of billions, the dark times of the Empire? And was my job to help prevent all this suffering? Was that why I was even here, alive? It seemed a heavy and awful responsibility, and it cowed me. I wasn't much for prayer even when I was in Catechism, but one formed itself in my consciousness now.

_Guide me; give me strength in the task you wish of me. I will do what is needed, but I must know what that is. _Surprisingly, the answer was immediate and clear – comfort surrounded me like a warm blanket, and I felt uplifted. Tears came to me for the second time that day, and I was deeply grateful. If I had a job to do, at least I had help. If I didn't watch out, I'd get religion.

I rose and stretched. Slan had fallen asleep, a tidy little bundle of fur at my feet, twitching in a dream, maybe of a lady Peroota Cat, or just a playmate. I smiled and scooped him up, and he looked drowsily at me.

_/Bed? / _He asked.

"Yeah, sport, it's definitely bedtime. Sorry to disturb you, but it'll be more comfortable with a pillow and blankets. Come on." He made a little happy noise, and snuggled into my arms. Silly little goof, he had more sense than I did.


	2. Chapter 2

******DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing of the Star Wars Universe, concept, or characters, and pay homage to the Great Flanneled one for his vast creative powers. I own the characters I have created, as far as they do not infringe upon his rights. No copyright infringement is intended and I do not profit from this work. I'll put them back when I'm done, George, honest. 

I awoke before the morning alarm chime, clutching my pillow, with the bedclothes in a knot around my legs. Again the voice was in my dreams, but now I could recognize it. And the dreams were far easier to understand, too – detailed and shriekingly erotic.

_**(Are you sure, little one?) **_Came the question. There was no mistaking that voice, low and hoarse and certain, and the definite effect that even dreaming of his closeness and caress had on my body. I wondered if Qui-Gon was out on walkabout or something. _Damn tease._

"Sure, he asks," I grumbled, as I got up and straightened the wreck of the sheets and blankets. "Sure, indeed. Of _course_ I'm sure, damn it. Fine time to ask, I _don't_ think." I was sweating and a mess, and I felt downright stupid as I climbed into the shower. I set the coldest water temperature I could stand. I sputtered and washed quickly and thoroughly and was acceptably calm when I stepped out and rubbed myself dry. At least I didn't smell like a house of ill repute anymore.

_You're an idiot, Kyle. All those heavy thoughts and philosophical nonsense, just to get away from the real issue. Sneaky, sneaky ego. **Bad** dog, no cookie…_

I dressed and ran a comb through my hair, redid the braid. I'd picked up other beads, one a smoky red garnet, another a brilliant green that looked like an emerald. There was also another colored fastener, this one yellow. They came of passing a few tests required of older Padawans, and indicated that I was capable of assuming responsibility – read this as babysitting the young ones when needed, or teaching classes. I enjoyed the babysitting part, but I hadn't taught any classes yet. Master Bodreau said that I would be called to do that soon, and I'd had instructional training. It wasn't natural to me, but I thought I might learn to enjoy it.

I braided the blue silk into the thin lock, securing it with a blue elastic thread on top and a red one on the bottom. My hair had grown considerably, and more quickly than I thought it could, now at chin length. The braid came down past my collarbone. I'd changed internally in my time here as well. I was much calmer; I could often sit still and consider things instead of blurting them out, which was quite a relief. It seemed easier for me to learn from my studies – and my frequent mistakes. I missed my family and friends, my old life, a great deal at times, but at the same time I loved what I was doing now, learning to help people to be whole and well, learning to ease suffering and heal sickness and wounds. That was wonderful beyond my wildest dreams, and the joy I felt when I could do that made me sure that Master Dooku had been right, and I _was_ where I belonged. I'd never really belonged anywhere before.

I sighed, and turned away from the mirror, and dutifully sat to meditate a bit and consider those things that I'd rather obviously missed the evening before, but again, I was sidetracked. _What could I possibly have to offer Qui-Gon? _ I wasn't anything special in the way of looks, but did that matter? I was a Padawan with an uncertain future at the Temple, a stray he'd brought home.

Perhaps I didn't trust _myself_. I certainly hadn't done well in any _other_ romantic relationship, after all. Always it was the wrong man, the wrong time. I couldn't deny it, though… something in me, even beyond me, pulled me to Qui-Gon like iron filings to a magnet, a moth to the moon. And, it seemed, he felt something for me beyond friendship as well. That both delighted me and frightened me a bit, but I guessed I'd just have to take things as they came, since I didn't know any other way. How did that old mantra go? _Not my will, but Thine_.

I was glad when I could finally settle myself out of the pea-green snit I'd been in upon arising. It was time to meet Master Bodreau for breakfast, and he wouldn't miss my mood and disturbed state on a bet. Our bond was close enough for that, even if we didn't live in the same apartment. Breakfast was a good way to coordinate activities and studies, and for him to see how I was doing. He looked a bit drawn this morning when Slan and I brought food to his quarters and greeted him.

"Good morning, Master," I said. "Did Master Dooku get in touch with you?"

"He did indeed," he replied with a smile.

"Good. Did he have any insight on the poison given Master Jinn?"

His lekku moved a bit, which indicated mild surprise. I was beginning to be able to read them – lekku were extraordinary things, an all purpose meta-language, and very expressive at that. "As a matter of fact, he did."

"Well, if he knew the one I was given, he might know others. Not necessarily a logical conclusion, but a hunch."

"Yes," he said. "At times, Padawan, I believe you know more than you're telling."

"It's complicated, Master. Sometime when we have time, I'll spill the whole thing. Unfortunately, I figure that might be in a year or two, unless the situation changes drastically."

He chuckled. "I'll be sure to let you know," he said, smiling.

I grinned. "Fair enough, Master, we can pencil it in. Now, what's on the schedule for today, sir?"

"We must monitor Master Jinn, and the Tiger Clan will be coming for a visit. They're due for checkups."

"Oh, that's great! It'll be good to see my buddies; it's been a while. I'll bet they've grown like weeds." I'd maintained close and affectionate ties with the Tiger Clan since I'd become an apprentice, both because I was very fond of them and because Master Yoda had asked Master Bodreau for my help in his ongoing investigation of the Tiger Clan and their Matrons. One of them, Mistress Mira, had already been retired – "due to age" was the official explanation – but the new Matron and the older one were often in conflict privately, I could tell _that_ when I saw them, and I was uneasy about the whole thing. "Anything else? Or will seven six-year-olds be enough for a day's work?"

At that, he laughed. "Certainly that, but we'll be doing duty in the Infirmary as well. It will be a busy day, I feel it."

"And you say _I_ have a gift for understatement. Let's hope no one gets sick or hurt. I think we have our hands full today, Master."

"Indeed. You meditated last night as I reminded you."

"Yes, Master, I did, and didn't fall asleep doing it, either. Not that it helped much. I managed to evade a few issues anyway. How long does it take before I can figure out the right ones?" I asked ruefully. "You'd think I'd know better by now."

"The ego can be very resourceful when it doesn't want to confront feelings or thoughts," he said. "Have you learned what the issues are?"

_Well, time to bite the bullet_. "Oh, certainly, at least some of them. My – strong feelings for Master Jinn, and my distress to see him in such pain are the most obvious ones. I do my best to release the feelings, Master, but all that goes away is -- the silly stuff. I don't know what to do." I looked down at my empty cereal bowl.

"Why would you want to refuse such a precious gift?" He asked gently, putting a hand on my arm.

I took a deep breath. _Busted, Kyle. You knew it would happen eventually. _

"Because," I said, "I know he cannot return my feelings, that Jedi are not allowed such attachments."_ There. I'd said it._ I struggled to hold back tears. Master Bodreau had probably known all along, there was no sense in being coy. He took my hand and I sensed a bit of a sympathetic chuckle within our bond, though he'd never laugh openly at my feelings; he was a kind person. I had to admit, it seemed pretty goofy when I said it out loud.

"You, my dear girl," he said, "have been watching far too many holovid serials. There is nothing in the Jedi Code that forbids love."

I smiled. "Oh, I know that, but the Council isn't known for permitting these things, according to Master Dooku."

"And when does Master Jinn follow the dictates of the Council?"

"Good point. But I don't want to cause any more trouble for him than he needs to cause himself," I replied. "What kind of friend would I be if I did that? This is a difficult journey to take alone."

"What makes you think that you are alone?" He asked once more. "Qui-Gon may need time, but he feels for you deeply. You are not obsessive; you have not grown smaller with these feelings. You were able to see beyond them and to aid him when he was in pain. It's hardly time to start feeling sorry for yourself now."

_Swish, nothing but net. There's a three-point field goal, right there. _ It took me a long time to find my voice, and my face showed my embarrassment and shame at being so pointedly caught. _Damn this pale coloring._

"I'm most fortunate to be your student," I replied. "I've learned so much from you already, Master – some of it even about being a Healer."

"I could not destroy what the Force has chosen to give you, even if I wanted to. This is your path, to walk or to turn away from as you choose. Either way is a perilous journey, but all life requires risk. The truth is seldom comforting."

"I thought – I th-thought it was an infatuation at first," I said, stuttering a bit as I did still when I had strong feelings. "After all, he was the first human I'd seen i-in weeks, and he s-saved my l-life more than once." I closed my lips tightly and took a deep breath, brought my uncooperative brain under control once more. It was actually a relief to talk about it, after keeping silent for so long, so it tumbled out quickly. "And he is very handsome, or at least I think so. So as he taught me, I just – put it aside, did my best to learn from him and appreciate him for himself, to value what he taught me, things that made life livable and wonders I never imagined, and to appreciate the time Ihad with him -- but even though the silly adolescent fantasies went away when I released them, the real emotion remained. It seems that it comes from beyond me, Master, that it chose me rather than I choosing it, or him. He has a job to do, an important one. I would never take him from it – but still – "

He nodded, a kind expression on his face. For the thousandth time at least I was grateful that I was apprenticed to a Master of a species that had two sexes, male and female, and who understood humans as well as Master Bodreau did. He understood most folks, really – he was quite old as Twi'leks go, well over a hundred years, and he'd been helping people since childhood. He'd seen a lot of people of all sorts go by. He didn't seem stooped or frail, though, but wise and strong, and I had come to respect him immensely, and I just plain liked him and his contemplative, careful way and errant sense of humor. He often had something surprising to say, and this was no exception.

"I have known Qui-Gon since he was very young, of course. He hears and follows the Will of the Force better than any Jedi I have ever seen," he said. "Many of them now are too arrogant to hear, unless they are assaulted by it. It is a sad thing, that so few Jedi are willing to listen to the Living Force." He rose, and indicated that I do the same. "Many think now that the Living Force is the province of we in the Healer's wing and in the Agri-Corps, but it is not so, and the Jedi will regret it. It will not be an easy road," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder as I gathered up the dishes and put them in the 'cycler.

"And since when have I done anything the easy way, Master?" I asked, though I wondered what he really meant by his brief rant. I'd have to think about it in my copious spare time. "I really should be dead, several times by now. I figure I should do my best not to make much noise about it."

"Wise of you," he said, cocking an amused eye and lekku at me.

"Pragmatic, rather, I think, Master" I replied. "I don't have much claim to wisdom yet. I should live that long."

He chuckled. "Shall we, then, Padawan? The Tiger Clan won't be late. Be mindful. I'll attend to the examining rooms and you can take the readings from Master Jinn's bay and bring them to me. We'll decide what to do from there."

"Of course, Master." I sighed. "Life was easier when I didn't have to _be mindful_ about everything – but certainly more high-impact."

He laughed at that. "You've a unique point of view, I suppose."

We headed down the corridor to the Healer's wing. I certainly had a lot to think about, despite my complaint. If Master Dooku knew about the poison used to increase the pain of the torture Qui-Gon had endured, there was a chance that the source was the same one we had theorized for mine – the Sith of my (hopeful) fiction, Darth Sidious, or his possible apprentice, Xanatos. According to Mace, who seemed to have a direct pipeline, there was still argument in the Council as to whether there was a Sith at all – indeed, even I supposed that someone could have found the poisons and used them without knowing their source, but how likely was that? And did _two_ incidences of possible Sith knowledge make it more likely that there was a Sith? Where had Qui-Gon been, anyway? What had he been doing? It had been a long time since I'd gotten a message or a letter from him. I loved his letters, and I'd missed them. They often came with little pressed flowers, drawings, or tiny things he enclosed with them, and just the joy of hearing from him and knowing he was well was a delight. They helped when I was missing him.

Well, he was here _now_, and he was mending. That was an improvement, at least. At Master Bodreau's indication, I went to the medical bay where the droid was monitoring Qui-Gon's condition, and saw that Master Dooku had beaten me to it. He was standing there with his hand on the thick transparent wall of the Bacta tank where Qui-Gon floated, and he had a sad, drawn look on his face. I could identify.

"Good morning, Master Dooku," I said, bowing briefly, looking at the readings and downloading them to my 'padd for Master Bodreau's review. They looked much better to me; even if I hadn't had all the classes, I drew on my independent studies to have an idea. Master Dooku turned to me with something of a worried look. He seemed to be tired as well – I guessed that he and Master Bodreau had been burning the midnight oil long after I'd passed out.

_So much for the Great Healer. I couldn't stand up a moment longer than I had. Let the grownups play now, Kyle. _ "I didn't expect to see you quite so soon, but welcome, Master. Can I get you anything?"

"Hello, Belinda," he said, with a bit of a smile. "I spoke with your Master last night and we were able to determine the origin of the toxin that was administered to Qui-Gon."

"Ah," I said. "That's good. May I ask – " I looked up into those deep dark eyes and saw what I had dreaded. The Sith. _Damn. _He nodded. "I see. You seem to have found an antidote, he's doing well."

"Yes, there's an antitoxin that works quite quickly that I found in the records. He may be a bit disoriented when he awakens, but that will quickly pass."

"That's wonderful. I'll be sure to remember."

"I have a Council meeting to attend, I just stopped by to check." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Take good care of him."

"We will, Master Dooku. Master Bodreau will know more about his condition from these readings and he can tell you what's going on. I'm glad you came." I smiled up at him. "I'm sure Qui-Gon is too. Good day, Master. May the Force be with you."

"And you as well, Padawan," he said, with a bit of a twinkle. "I understand the Tiger Clan is due for checkups today. You'll need it at least as much as I will."

I chuckled. "It will be delightful," I replied. "But definitely wearing."

He smiled. "Good day to _you_, then." He swept off. I was heartened that he'd been able to help, but Master Dooku was still a puzzle to me at times. I found him to be a wonderful teacher and friend, but there were many depths to him that I doubt anyone had plumbed, even Master Yoda. They worried me less since I'd known him, but they occasionally still made me uneasy, as they did now. I'd hate to be on the wrong side of him; I had a feeling he did not forget. Luckily, he did learn from his mistakes. I prayed he would continue to do so, continue on the right path.

I took a moment and looked at Qui-Gon. He seemed fairly comfortable, even though the respirator hid most of his face, and the burns and wounds were healing at the incredible pace that Bacta made possible. Most would leave no mark or scar on his skin. _Gods, even with all those bumps and bruises he's still beautiful… _I put a hand on the tank and sent what comfort and love I could with my greetings. I could feel his warmth return. Had it always been there? I couldn't tell, but that didn't matter.

I brought the readings to Master Bodreau, being careful to keep my mind on the job. It would be easy to be distracted by libidinous daydreams, and _that_ could be a disaster with curious, Force-Sensitive six-year-olds about, or anytime. It wouldn't be fair, after all, to go off on a flight of fancy when I needed to pay attention to what was happening now. Soon, a gaggle of eager six-year-olds would descend upon the Infirmary for testing and examination, their Matrons taking a much-needed break. I was definitely going to need to be on my toes.

"Hello, Tiger Clan," Master Bodreau said to the assembled children. They bowed as they had been trained. Still there was that over-careful courtesy. Of course, the doctor's office could cow a grown man… and often did.

"Good morning, Master Bodreau," they replied, politely. _Something was odd, to be sure. From their postures, it seemed that most of them were sore or hurt, but their Matrons hadn't reported any unusual incidents_. I exchanged a look with Master Bodreau, and he let me know that I needed to observe them closely.

"I believe you know my Padawan, Belinda," he continued. "We'll be doing your physical examinations today, and then Belinda will take you to see the Infirmary on a tour. Now, I need you to play or read quietly while I call you each for your examination. Bant, I believe you're first."

"Yes, Master Bodreau," they all said, and the little Calamarian girl came dutifully along, taking my hand and smiling up at me.

"Hello, Bant, it's good to see you," I said. "You've grown so! Come here, and we'll get the basics…"

So Bant was examined, and she proved to be healthy and even cheerful. She was a sweet little girl, with a keen eye for detail, and an unsinkable good humor. Master Shi'in took her to speak to her, and we did the physical examination for the rest of the children, passing them thereafter to the Mind Healers. They were piecing together the story of what was going on there without further traumatizing the children. We saw quite a few bumps and bruises, but none of the Padawans were willing to explain much about them. Finally, Obi-Wan was the only child remaining, reading a datapadd quietly after putting the blocks away.

"Guess it's your turn now, Obi-Wan," I said, touching his shoulder. He flinched a bit. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, a bit quickly. _Hm. That was puzzling. I could swear I hurt him._

"How have you been?" I asked. "I've missed you, you've been busy and so have I. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, many things," he said, with a smile. He took my hand when I offered, and we marched into the clinic and measured and weighed him as he chattered about his schoolwork and practice sessions. He was still a bit thin for his height, but I supposed he'd be lanky while he got his growth. For a while I had practiced elementary katas with the Tiger Clan, which amused them greatly. Obi-Wan and Bant had proven to be natural teachers, with a gift for clear communication. They'd helped me a lot. "Are you practicing your katas?" he asked, cheerfully.

"I am, Obi-Wan, and I appreciate your help. When one comes late to this kind of thing, it's useful to get help from folks who know it better."

"Even us?"

"You teach people all the time, Obi-Wan. You teach the Matrons, you teach your teachers, and you will teach your Master, when you have one. You and Bant taught me well, and I enjoyed it, even if I did fall on my face."

He giggled a bit. "That was funny."

"It was, wasn't it? Now that the bruises are healed, I think so too – but my nose hurt for a couple of days and I looked like I'd been in a tavern brawl. Come on, Master Bodreau is ready to see you. You have to get undressed for this part, he wants to examine you and see how you're growing. Here's your room now."

"I don't want to get undressed," he said. When I turned to him, he had crossed his arms and wore an obstinate look on his face, complete with the furrow on his brow, so incongruous at his age. Suddenly he looked a good deal like the adult he would be. I knelt to look him in the eye, and smoothed my thumb across the line gently, felt the fear and distress there. _He was such a sweet child, this wasn't right. Something was definitely going on here._

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?" I asked. I sent a message along my bond with Master Bodreau. _I'd had a bad feeling about this, and sure enough, here it was_. He acknowledged it.

"I promised. I promised I wouldn't tell."

"Ah. I see." I nodded.

"A Jedi never breaks his promise."

"Yes, that's true, and I know you take that seriously. But a Padawan must do as he's told. You don't have to say anything, but you _do_ have to take your tunic and leggings off. Those are the rules, you know that, Obi-Wan."

He was tearing. "But –"

"What?" I asked. I took his hands in mine and again I felt aches and pains that such a small body shouldn't have, as I had before. I sent him a bit of comfort, very gently. "You have to be examined, and tell us how you are. We need to know how you're growing, if you're happy and well. We all care about that very much."

"You _do?_" He asked. He relaxed a bit.

"Of course, Obi-Wan, we're friends. I care about you. You're one of my favorite people here. You help me with my katas, you talk to me when I'm lonesome, and we have fun when I come to see you. That means a lot to me, because I miss my family and my friends sometimes. It doesn't go one way, either. When you're sad and upset like this, I'm sad too, _because_ I care about you."

He took a step forward and hugged me tight. I pulled him into my lap and kissed the top of his head and cuddled him gently, to make the hurt spots feel better. He sighed through his tears. "I care about you, too," he said. "But – it's a secret, and I promised not to tell."

"Oh, Obi-Wan – I know that Jedi are supposed to keep secrets, it's part of their job. But when a secret becomes a bad secret, then maybe it's time to think it over."

"A _bad_ secret?"

"Yes. A bad secret is one that can hurt you and all of those around you. Even the secret I told you could _become _a bad secret someday, and you'll need to tell someone. I'll trust you if you find out that it's so. For now, though, how do you think you can tell the difference?"

His eyes widened briefly with an 'of course' look, and he rose from my embrace, looking now more determined than anxious. "Excuse me, then. I have to ask."

"Of course," I said, with a bow. "Would you like me to meditate with you?"

He smiled shyly. "Um – yes, that would be great."

He slipped quickly into trance, with the skill borne of long practice; his head was cocked alertly, a bit to one side, as if _listening_. I did my best to provide him a peaceful, safe atmosphere. Because of the openness of our friendship and the contact we'd had, I could feel that he was in a good bit of pain, and it took all my meager skill to shield him from the anger that _I_ had to release. I was the grownup here, after all. _What or who had done this to him?_ _**He**_ would have to see if it was a good secret or not, or the Mind Healers would undermine his shielding to get the information, and that would not only hurt him, but betray him in a very deep way. He was very sensitive, and very strong in the Force, so I just trusted and prayed that it would tell him. He'd been doing this kind of thing a lot longer than I had, after all, since he was a tiny child.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and squared his shoulders, like the serious little man he was. "Thank you," he said. "The Force told me what you told me -- that your secret is an important secret to keep now, but the other one is a bad one. I'm ready to go into the room and take my clothes off now. And I need to talk to Master Bodreau. Will you stay with me?"

"Of course, Obi-Wan. You are a very brave young man. I'll help you as much as I can."

He resolutely marched into the room and took his tabard off, then his tunic. As I expected, I saw the bruises that I'd only felt before. It hurt anyway, just to see them; I wanted to weep. They were all over his chest and shoulders; some on his back like lines. Someone had quite obviously worked him over very thoroughly. When he removed his leggings his thighs were bruised as well.

"Oh, dear," I said. "No wonder you felt like you were hurting."

"You knew?" he asked.

"That's what I'm being trained for, Obi. I'm to be a Healer. When I touched you, I could tell that you were sore and stiff, and I wondered why you'd feel that way."

"And you didn't just – make me tell you?"

"Of course not, you're my friend. I trusted you to do the right thing, and I wouldn't ever just hurt you. No one should just – hurt someone, for no reason. There are few reasons good enough to hurt someone, as a matter of fact."

"You're upset? Angry?" _Right on the nose, kiddo. Why would he be surprised at that? _

"I am, Obi-Wan. I don't like it when someone hurts my friends. I see too much of that as it is."

"Like Master Jinn?"

"Yes," I said. No sense in lying to him, after all. That necessitated a hard swallow.

"Can I see him, later?"

"I'll ask Master Bodreau, if you like, or you can. He's in Bacta now, healing."

"Good. I will."

Master Bodreau came in and was just as shocked as I was, but did a fine job of disguising it. He examined Obi-Wan matter-of-factly, and let out a deep breath through pursed lips, the most disapproving expression I'd ever seen from him.

"Well, young Padawan, someone has beaten you quite soundly. You must tell me what happened."

Obi-Wan's eyes sought mine, and he was still afraid.

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan, do what you know is right," I said. "Even if it's scary, it's the most important thing. Some people never learn that."

So, hesitantly at first and then more freely, the whole story came out. The day before, during 'sabre training, Mistress Elaina had left the class while they were sparring. Obi-Wan was sparring with the biggest child in the Clan, a large Zabrak child named Wa'Run. I liked him, but I was uneasy about the way the Matron treated him, as something of a pet. Obi-Wan, loving acrobatics even at this young age, got a bit big for his britches and leapt over Wa'Run and taken his head from behind. The children had applauded, laughed at it and teased Wa'Run as children will, and he had lost his temper and beaten Obi-Wan to within an inch of his life.

The others were frightened half to death, and had tried to pull them apart, but Wa'Run was fully in the grip of the Dark Side by that time. Several of the other young Tigers were hurt as well, trying to protect Obi-Wan (whence the other sore and bruised children), but Obi-Wan had taken the brunt of the rage. As a matter of fact, as I thought of it, it was a wonder he wasn't dead. He was a scrapper; he'd done well to fend off the dark onslaught as well as he had.

When the Matron came back in the midst of the chaos, she'd had all she could do to keep the brawl from turning fatal. She did what she could to treat the worst of Obi-Wan's injuries, and swore the children to secrecy. It was Obi-Wan's fault for showing off, she said, and he'd gotten what he deserved. And this wasn't the first time she'd shielded the boy, either, flagrantly favoring Wa'Run over Obi-Wan and the others. She was Zabrak herself, and that must have made a difference.

I listened carefully and as well as I could, striving to stay clear and focused. I was very fond of Obi-Wan, even aside of my impulse to like him because of all I knew of his character from the movies. He'd taken a while to warm up to me, but when he had, his freely given friendship and that of many of his Clan-mates had brightened my life in the Temple. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep from finding Mistress Elaina and giving her not only a piece of my mind, but also the sole of my boot.

_Now __**that's **__certainly unbecoming of a Healer. Some pacifist __**you**__ are, Kyle. _

_+No, Belinda, I have to resist similar impulses.+ _Came the clear thought from Master Bodreau.

_You have seniority, Master. May I hold her down? _A sternly reproving look was my answer. _I know. I'm a primitive violent woman. With a temper. I'm working on it. _

"Belinda, put in a call to Master Yoda," he said, more calmly than I could have hoped to manage. **_That's_**_ why I'm the Padawan hereabouts. _ He looked directly at Obi-Wan. "We need to speak with him, do we not?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said.

"And then we will get you started in healing, young Padawan. You did well, to tell us about what happened. It is brave indeed to know the difference between a good promise and a bad one."

"Lyn told me to ask the Force, and it told me," he said simply. "That was easier."

"Indeed it is, when you listen," he said, looking pleased with Obi-Wan.

"I'll go right away, Master," I said, with a slight bow, and left. As I walked to the comm in his (our) office, I felt my head begin to pound.

_**Oh, **__no. This won't do at all. It will just make poor Obi and the other kids feel worse, and that they don't need. I have no __**time **__for this. _I ran ruthlessly through my series of centering, peace, and mindfulness exercises, and the pain subsided enough to allow me speech by the time I reached the Comm.

"Master Yoda, this is Padawan Kyle," I said. I expected to get a message or something, but he answered the comm himself.

"Yes, Padawan?" He asked. I could hear the smile in his voice, and saw it when the image formed. I bowed.

"Master Bodreau sends his respects. Will you come to the Infirmary as soon as you may, Master? I believe we have some information that would be of interest to you concerning the Tiger Clan."

"Hmmf," he muttered. "Wondered when we would find out, I did. Be there right away, I shall, Padawan. Good care of the children must you take."

"Of course, Master. We'll see you soon, then."

He cut the transmission off as I saw him get into his chair. He didn't look too happy. Well, that was the prevailing sentiment; we weren't ready to party here, either. I _never_ want to be on the other side of that look on Master Yoda's face. It didn't last long, and his expression had softened by the time he arrived at the Infirmary. It wasn't the children's fault, after all. I was busy soothing the worst of Obi-Wan's pain and attending to my temper, and all I could do was bow to him and keep my mouth shut.

The interview Master Yoda had with the children was short and to the point, and they told him what happened, glad to get it off their chests, now that Obi-Wan had spilled the beans. Poor Bant was in tears; she was Obi-Wan's best friend and had begged him to say something. Evidently this wasn't the first time he'd stood up to Wa'Run, and the bullying had been going on fairly ruthlessly since the first Matron had been dismissed. And Wa'Run was in no better shape, since he knew what he had done and was relieved at finally getting it out in the open. I felt his pain in my heart – _I had done much the same, hadn't I? At least Obi-Wan was still alive.  
_

Obi-Wan was treated with bacta dressings and rest, and the tour for the children was canceled until such time as they all could go. I brought him back to the bay next to Qui-Gon's, as I had been directed, and he looked over curiously.

"May I see Master Jinn?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not sure, Obi-Wan. He's in a Bacta tank and he's pretty banged up. I don't want you to be frightened."

"That's okay," he said. "I'm ready for that. I know he's hurt, but he's getting better, isn't he?"

"He is," I said. "Thank goodness." I took a deep breath and stilled myself, as I had had to since that morning. The dull throb behind my eyes had eased a bit, but now I had to just get rid of it; I had too much to do, and this place was calm, filled with a peaceful atmosphere of healing. I needed some of that right then. I grounded myself into it, and as I felt the pain flow away a voice whispered that Obi-Wan _had_ to see Qui-Gon.

"May I see him?" he asked, patiently.

"Yes, but remember he's on the mend. He won't be able to respond to you by speaking, he's in trance."

"I know that, too," he said.

"You're patient with me, Obi-Wan," I said, riffling his hair affectionately. "Lucky me. Come on."

His smile was downright incandescent, and he reached his arms around my neck as I knelt to face him and gave me a sorely-needed hug. "And you helped me, a lot. Thank you."

"Hey," I said. "What are friends for?" I hoisted him up to my hip so he could see into the tank. He peered intently into it, both hands on the clear surface, and I could feel him probing with the Force to see if Qui-Gon was there and all right. _It was as natural to him as breathing, this sense. How would I ever get to that point?_

He looked up at me. "You're learning well," he said, as if in answer. "Master Qui-Gon is proud of you."

I colored, taken aback. "Oh? You talked to him?"

"Of course, I had to see if you were taking care of him." I supposed Obi-Wan's possessiveness was no surprise. _He_ knew that Qui-Gon would be his Master, at least when he wasn't worrying about it. "He says you're doing a good job."

"Oh, I'm glad. We do our best. You're doing a good job, too, Obi-Wan, you've taught me a lot." I took him back to bed, and made him comfortable with a pillow and a soft blanket, and took his datapadd. "You're a good friend. Now, you should rest. Master Bodreau will be along shortly to assist you in getting into a healing trance, and I'll help too." I smoothed the soft auburn blaze of hair and helped with the pain again. At least I could do that.

"That's nice," he said, smiling and relaxing a bit.

"We aim to please," I replied. He gave me that glowing grin again, and relaxed even further into the warmth that the pain relief brought him. Master Bodreau came and helped put him into a healing trance that would last for a few hours and heal most of the injuries – including _three_ cracked ribs and a partial shoulder separation, and a good start on the bruises. He'd feel a lot better – and very hungry – when he came out of it.

I had to hold down the fort for a while in the Infirmary until a Senior Padawan or two arrived, because Master Bodreau was summoned posthaste to a Council meeting. I was not, and happy to miss it. The last thing I wanted was to be in the midst of a Council meeting if there was no information or evidence I needed to give, and a chance for me to shoot my mouth off. I fixed myself a cup of tea when Lort and Grenne came to supervise, checked on my two patients (who were both in trance), and reluctantly decided that a spot of meditation was what the doctor (or Master, that is) would order, as much as I wanted to find Mistress Elaina and punch her out instead. I gathered that she was at the Council meeting as well, and I was sure she'd rather be left to my tender mercies. The boys left me to cover the comm and took care of an older Padawan who'd been burned in a sparring match – much more usual fare on this shift.

I didn't get much time, though, because just as I had gotten calm enough to start releasing all that Sturm und Drang to the Force, the comm sounded again. It had, though, been long enough, fortunately, so I was able to speak and not be too dizzy to walk. I shook my head a bit.

"Yes, this is Padawan Kyle. May I help you?"

"Belinda, have Mistress Elaina and Wa'Run arrived there yet?" Master Bodreau asked.

"No, Master. Let me check with Lort and Grenne…" I palmed the switch to call them. "Gentlemen, has anyone arrived lately?" I looked out. Both of them shook their heads and mumbled negatives as they were making notes on Pelan's burns in the record and on their datapadds for later study. "No, no one has been here since Pelan came in with a 'sabre burn."

"We sent them to the Infirmary. They should have arrived by now."

"They are not here," I said. "I'll check, but as far as I know, no one has arrived or left with the exception of Pelan. Unless – " I checked the monitor on the bays with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and drew a sigh when I saw that both of them were resting comfortably. I would have known if anything had happened to either of them, most likely. "No, Master. Should we make a search?"

He sighed. "It has been far too long, almost an hour, since we sent them. We will inform CorSec, but I have the feeling that we made an error in not sending an escort."

_Oh, holy Hannah. You didn't send them here with an __**escort?**__ Is that like sending them to a room with a conveniently loaded pistol on the table? Did you make sure an air taxi was at the door as well? How can the Jedi Council be so damned __**arrogant?? **_It was an effort to keep my thoughts to myself. I sighed. All that effort, and here I was again at ground zero, ready to spit nails. Back to the old drawing board – or the meditation corner, where the downright chatty Force told me as I released my anger _yet again_ that there was more to the picture than met the eye. I was still sad for that poor child, though, who would suffer in any case. Very sad.

Master Bodreau came back some little while later after I'd completed my meditation and found me checking on both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, who were both doing just fine. I hoped I didn't seem too much like a mother hen.

"You are disturbed," he said, without preamble.

"I am, Master," I said. "I'm doing my best to release it."

"You have done well to maintain your equanimity to this extent. No one who does not know you would guess. However, your anger will not improve the situation."

"Master, I'm not angry, I've managed to release that. I don't like migraine headaches any more than the next person. I must admit, though, I am very sad."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Because it seems, Master, that Mistress Elaina has kidnapped that poor child, and he won't learn how to control himself."

"Padawan, she cannot kidnap her own son."

I raised an eyebrow. "Surely –" I wished that the room wouldn't rhumba so when things like this were announced. _But this explained everything. It was the truth. How could we not have seen? Hello, village idiot, I want your job. I've got lots of training.  
_

"It is true, Belinda," he said, echoing the sudden insight. "We have no idea how she found her way here, but the child was taken from her, and two years thereafter she came here. The Knight who found the boy had been killed on assignment. The boy himself was reportedly a foundling, abandoned by her, but she denies this."

"Well, that will teach me to keep my big mouth shut when I don't have all the facts." I put my hand on my forehead.

"Indeed – and me as well. She confronted the Council with this truth and caused some small consternation. She volunteered to have the testing performed to prove it, but it was not necessary. We knew the truth of her assertion, and could not argue it."

"So they let her take the child and go."

"She is not bound to stay here," he replied. "None of us are. If the service does not suit the Jedi, they are free to go."

"Who is the child's father?" I asked, and the hair on the back of my head felt prickly. _I'm not going to like this._

"She would not divulge the father's identity, and she is not required to do so."

I nodded. "I see. And did Wa'Run wish to leave as well?"

"I do not believe so," he said quietly. "I am not sure. But his mother has legal claim upon him as his guardian. It is a... gray area."

Then it hit me, and I felt sick. A _Zabrak _mother, and her _**Force-sensitive**_ _**son**_ had left the Temple. _Where would they go?_ I had a horrible feeling that _she knew exactly where to take him_, _and even who his father might be_. "Master, did Mistress Elaina say anything about where she would be going?"

"No, Padawan, but they seemed to disappear quite quickly. There are so many people on Coruscant… However, it was as though she had a destination in mind."

Right… I suspected that I knew whom she'd eventually find, if not where to find him. _Oh, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop it. _I felt dazed, and for a moment all I wanted was to find a soundproof room and fill it from floor to ceiling with breakables so I could cry and shriek and smash things until I was exhausted. "Oh. Of course. You remember this morning when I told you we might have to schedule time for a bit of a talk about where I really came from? I think we need to considerably rearrange the time frame. Meanwhile – will you kindly excuse me? I have to speak to Master Yoda."

"That may be difficult, Padawan. You have a class scheduled this afternoon."

"Master?" This was news to me.

"Yes, you will be attending the Human Sexuality class for the Falcon Clan Padawans, taught by Master Drenn."

"Um – Master, I do have an elementary knowledge of human sexuality," I said. "In fact, I wasn't – erm – unfamiliar – "

"Oh, no, Padawan, you aren't to _take_ the class. You must _observe _it in order to learn how to teach the material to the Padawans. Master Drenn will be going on Sabbatical shortly. You are due there in an hour."

"Ah. Thank you, Master. I will prepare."

"Of course. And Belinda –"

"Yes?" I turned toward him once I had control of my face.

"There are some things better let be. Remember your place, _Padawan,_ and let this alone." His expression was severe, and his tone brooked no backchat. He was not usually an authoritarian Master, but when he gave an order, he expected it to be followed without question. "You must compose yourself, and prepare for your assignment this afternoon." He held my eyes for a long moment, until he knew that I understood what he meant. _There would be no call to Master Yoda, nor any other effort made to find this woman and her child._ It solved the problem, and that was sufficient. "It has been a hard day, Belinda."

"I'll say," I muttered. "And it isn't even lunchtime… no, wait – " I consulted the chrono. It was well _past _lunch. No wonder I felt funky. _Eejit, Kyle, remember your job. Master Bodreau doesn't look too chipper, and your blood sugar is in your socks. _"I'm sorry,Master, I should bring us some lunch."

"Indeed," he said. "I had forgotten as well. Good thinking."

"No thinking involved, Master – I fancy you could hear my stomach from here. Excuse me, I'll be back in a few moments."

I went to the dispensary and selected a thick, hearty vegetable stew and some raza for us, and hot sweet cider made of something that resembled pears. I didn't know about him, but I'd had enough agony for the day, and we both needed something solid. Master Bodreau nodded his approval. I excused myself once more and went to the 'fresher to wash up and change. I sat down for the first time, and took a deep breath as the facts I had assimilated rolled over me like the undertow at Block Island, and all the anger and horror I had deferred came over me in a wave of black despair. I slid down to my knees, put my face in my hands, and began to weep.

The Temple had just let the Sith out of the bag, and I couldn't do anything.


End file.
